


stay here wasting my time

by pirateygoodness



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: Zari doesn't do this. Doesn't have one-night - one-afternoon - stands with strangers from other times. Not that she knows that's what Helen wants, but with the way Helen's looking at her and the soft caress of her hands against Zari's arm, she feels like it's something along those lines. That small, wanting part of Zari gets a little more insistent.It's not that Zari needs the sexual release (although she certainly wouldn't mind it). But today, more than anything, she just wants someonethere.Someone to sink into and someone to tell her that she's very strong and brave and someone to take her mind off the fact that Amaya's leaving and there isn't a single thing she can do about it.





	stay here wasting my time

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through the season finale, obviously. Title is from "Heavenly" by Pale Waves.

When it's all over, Zari heads back to the ship. 

Now that Mallus is gone, everything's starting to hit her. She's been up all night, operated one sixth of a giant spirit warrior, and the past few days have been a rollercoaster of emotion. She can feel it around the edges of her awareness, fatigue setting in and competing with the adrenaline she's still got going. Everything mingles, creating this weird mix of bone-deep exhaustion and restless energy that's starting to feel more familiar than it should. 

Everyone else has sort of dispersed - Sara to her bunk to sleep off the absurd amount of dubious 19th-century whiskey she's had today, the boys off somewhere else. Nate and Amaya disappeared together, and Zari's trying her best not to think about the heaviness in her heart that comes with knowing that. 

(It's not that they're _doing_ whatever it is they're probably doing - whatever Nate's idea of _saying goodbye_ happens to be - it's that they're saying a goodbye at all. Zari still hasn't settled enough to wrap her head around the idea that Amaya is going to go back home for real, this time.) 

There's a movement to her right, and Zari's hand flies to her totem instinctively at the flash of gold beside her before she registers blonde hair, the short skirt, and Helen's honey-sweet smile. "Zari," she says. Her eyes are kind, crinkling in at the corners as she approaches. 

"Hey," Zari says, releasing her totem with a sigh of relief. "Hi. What's up?"

"You fought very well today," Helen says. "I just wanted to let you know." 

Zari needs a minute to react to this. 

It's not bad that Helen's congratulating her on a job well done, or that Helen's here talking to her after the dust has settled. But the way that Helen's asking, that's what Zari needs some extra time for. 

She's right up in Zari's personal space, is the thing. As she speaks, Helen reaches out and rests one hand on the top of Zari's arm, wraps the other around the bottom of it so that she's cradling Zari's forearm. The weight of her touch, even through Zari's coat, is enough to make her take notice.

Helen's eyes are the other thing, the warmth and kindness of them all trained right at Zari. "Oh," Zari says. "Thank you." 

Helen's smile gets even wider. Zari is sure now, even through the fog she's feeling, that she's being flirted with. 

She's still in last night's clothes, and there's Beebo fluff in her hair and she's still holding Jonah's weird, dirty old hat. All she really wants is a shower and a sandwich and the sweet embrace of her bed. But Helen of Troy is flirting with her, earnest and somehow still energetic after everything, and something in Zari _wants that._

Helen's stroking Zari's arm with her thumb, her grip gentle but firm. There's a question in her eyes as Helen says, "You're welcome." 

Zari blinks, and in the moment that her eyes are closed she has a sudden mental image of kissing Helen, then another of Helen between Zari's knees and that smile trained up at her. 

Zari doesn't do this. Doesn't have one-night - one-afternoon - stands with strangers from other times. Not that she knows that's what Helen wants, but with the way Helen's looking at her and the soft caress of her hands against Zari's arm, she feels like it's something along those lines. That small, wanting part of Zari gets a little more insistent. 

It's not that Zari needs the sexual release (although she certainly wouldn't mind it). But today, more than anything, she just wants someone _there._ Someone to sink into and someone to tell her that she's very strong and brave and someone to take her mind off the fact that Amaya's leaving and there isn't a single thing she can do about it. 

Zari answers, with a weary, gentle smile that sort of reaches her eyes. "I, um. I'd love to hear about how you've been doing. If you wanted to come back to the ship?" 

Helen's breath catches, a soft little hitch in the back of her throat. Her smile shifts a little as she slowly draws her upper teeth across her lip and bites down. "I'd like that very much," she says.

+

Zari gets that shower, at least. 

She leaves Helen in her quarters, tries not to double-take too much at the sight of an Amazon warrior maiden picking up her Super Nintendo controller and examining it with the cautious interest of someone clearly outside of their time. She showers alone; washes off blue-and-white fluff and dirt and sweat and tries not to think about anything. 

She succeeds, partially. She doesn't think about Amaya, or the time that they snuck into the shower stall together; Zari's butt squashed against the wall and freezing cold while her front was pressed against the warm of Amaya who couldn't stop kissing her. She doesn't think about Mallus, or any of what happened. She does think about Helen. 

Helen and her strong arms. Helen and her golden smile and the way she giggled softly - shyly - at the sight of Zari's room. Zari thinks about the way that Helen's fingers look strong and sure, and the way her mouth might taste, while she runs soapy hands across her skin and rinses the day away. 

She changes in the bathroom, comes back to her room with her hair still damp. It feels better to be in real clothes again, the kind that make her feel like _herself_. 

Helen's sitting on the bed, waiting patiently. She laughs at the sight of Zari, a soft trill that communicates delight more than anything else; like Helen's just so happy to see Zari that she can't not. "You're back," she says.   
Zari shrugs, throws her towel in the direction of her laundry basket. "Thanks for waiting." 

"You're worth waiting for," Helen replies. She's across the room, but Zari can still feel the warmth of Helen's earnestness from all the way over here. 

Or maybe that's coming from Zari herself. Maybe those warm feelings are Zari's heart beating a little faster because this is flirting, this is _very much_ flirting. She takes a deep breath. The cuffs of her shirt are slipping down and falling over her palms and she tucks her thumbs through the loops made by the button plackets instinctively, untucks them again when she catches herself. "I, um. Thanks." 

Zari has to take a deep breath just to cross the room, to sit on the couch while Helen sits on the bed across from her. "So," Zari says. "How have you been." 

Helen turns to face her. She bends one knee, tucking her foot underneath her thigh. Her boots creak with the movement, and Zari tries not to think about the way her skirt shifts or the fact that Zari can see the shorts she's wearing underneath it, the only thing separating Zari from - 

"I've been just - wonderful," Helen sighs. "I'm a great warrior now. Just like you." 

Zari shrugs. She's looking down at her hands, shakes her head because she's looped her thumbs through her shirt sleeves _again_ , a nervous habit that Helen's bringing out of her. "I don't know that I'd really count as a _warrior_ , but I'm -" Zari looks up, tries to meet Helen's eyes. "I'm happy for you. I'm glad you found a better life." 

Helen shuffles forward, leans in and when she can't reach Zari from there, she crosses the space to sit next to her on the couch. She takes one of Zari's hands in hers, smoothing her sleeve back to run callused fingertips across Zari's palm. "You are," she says. "You're as great as any warrior I've ever met. And I'm so lucky that I met you, that you saved me." 

"Oh," is all Zari can manage. This is so much to feel - not just the flirting or the way that Helen's touch is sending shivery-electric flutters across her skin, but the weight of her gratitude. 

Zari doesn't know what to say. 

"I want to thank you," Helen says. "If you'll let me." 

Zari laughs, this breathless stuttering sound because when Helen says _thank you_ her voice gets low and earnest and Zari feels it in her belly. She knows, instinctively, the exact way that Helen wants to express that gratitude. "What did you have in mind?" Zari manages. Her voice wavers, but only a little. 

Helen puts two of her fingers underneath Zari's chin; her knuckles press gently against Zari's jaw until her head lifts and they're eye to eye. The weight of her eye contact takes the breath out of Zari. She sees so much desire there. Helen's eyes are shining with gratitude and wanting and Zari feels swept up in it. All she can do is wait and breathe as Helen moves nearer. 

She captures Zari's mouth in a kiss so tender and sweet that Zari can hardly believe it. Helen's lips are confident and soft, so soft that Zari thinks she could get lost in just the feel of them. Every movement of her mouth is deliberate, a gentle query as she waits for Zari's lips to part, for Zari to sigh into her mouth, for Zari to begin to kiss her back. Slowly, the slide of Helen's lips against hers ends, is replaced by Helen's lips parting again and her tongue sliding across Zari's mouth. 

It's everything Zari likes in a kiss. When they separate - and it's a while later, time passing as Zari was too caught up to notice - Zari's mouth is slick and she feels fluttery all over. It's that weird post-fight feeling all over again, adrenaline and calm mixing together but this time they're settling squarely between Zari's thighs, driving _desire_. 

"Will you?" Helen whispers, her breath warm and sweet against Zari's lips. "Let me thank you?" 

Zari isn't usually like this. Zari doesn't usually have sex like this, casual and unplanned with a time-travelling princess. But Zari also doesn't save the world every day, Amaya doesn't leave every day, and today with all of that happening, this feels right. It feels like she _needs this_ , in a way that goes beyond her physical desire. "Yes," Zari sighs, her voice soft but clear. "I'd like that." 

Helen's reply is a soft gasp and a delighted laugh. She leans in and suddenly Zari's _moving_ , Helen's arms around her waist as she tugs Zari nearer. 

Helen doesn't quite lift Zari into her lap but she comes close, pulling Zari forward until her only comfortable option is to reposition herself with one leg on either side of Helen's hips. Helen grins up at her, runs strong fingers along either side of Zari's spine. Her touch is on top of Zari's shirt, but she feels it firm and insistent through the fabric and her lower body gives a gentle, fluttering thrill in response. "I'd like it very much, too," she whispers. "I've been thinking about this for such a long time." 

"You have?" 

Helen bites her lip, nodding. Her hands slide from Zari's back to her hips and she sort of pulls Zari again, guiding her down so that her hips are flush against Helen's abdomen. "I used to dream about it. All of the ways that I would repay the great Zari for giving me such a gift." 

Helen rocks forward, her belly pressing against the front of Zari's hips and suddenly, Zari can't speak. Her only response is a gasp, stuttering and aroused and Helen grins at the sound of it. She reaches for the front of Zari's shirt, tugging at the neckline and pausing when the buttons stop her. Now it's Helen's turn to blush as she catches herself. "Oh, I forgot about -," she murmurs. 

"It's fine," Zari whispers. She doesn't mind one bit. With the way Zari's feeling right now, Helen could ruin a dozen of her shirts as long as Zari gets to be touched underneath them. 

Helens works deliberately at each of Zari's buttons. She's being cautious, brow furrowing just a little like she's concentrating, trying to keep herself from damaging Zari's shirt and _oh_ the pace of it is almost too much. Now that they've agreed that this is happening, Zari wants it with an immediacy that's more than she'd expected. She wants her shirt open, wants Helen's hands on her chest, wants Helen's mouth on her _tits_ , right now. 

It feels like ages before Helen manages to unbutton her shirt. It's not, she knows it's not, but it's all Zari can do to keep herself from begging Helen to go faster. Her bra and chest are exposed after the first few buttons but Helen keeps going, unbuttons every last one at the same even pace until Zari's shirt is hanging open and she feels like she's on fire. 

Helen looks up at her, eyes dark with desire. "Your body is even more lovely than I'd imagined," she whispers. 

It's nice, to hear that Helen thinks she's lovely. But Zari doesn't need that today. All she needs is touch, and her body wants it _now._ "Please," she whimpers, trying not to sound quite as impatient as she feels. 

Helen's expression shifts from soft, gentle wonder to hunger in an instant. Just the sight of it - the knowledge that Helen's on the same page about this - is enough that Zari feels the desire in her belly settle lower, centering itself more clearly. Helen leans forward and kisses against Zari's sternum, and as she does her hands find the skin of Zari's back and she tugs Zari close, pressing Zari's breasts against her face. 

Zari can feel Helen's breath against her skin, the warmth of it and the desire of it and she's suddenly extremely aware of her tits, of every shift of the fabric of her bra against them. Helen kisses across the tops of her breasts, mouth warm and soft. Her tongue is there too, lapping soft against her skin and it's so, so much. 

It's been too many days since someone kissed her chest like this. 

She's so focused on the way Helen's mouth makes her feel, the alternation of soft and sharp as Helen leaves marks across her skin, that she doesn't notice Helen's hands working at her back until her bra band suddenly loosens. Zari chuckles, arches her chest up into Helen's mouth in reply. 

Her bra can't quite come off, not until she takes off her shirt, and Zari's a little too far gone to figure that out but Helen, at least, can handle it for her. Helen nuzzles her way down, around the cup of Zari's bra hanging loose across her chest. Her mouth finds Zari's nipple and oh _oh_ , it feels _amazing._ Helen's tongue slides across the topography of it, flicking with just enough pressure that Zari feels herself start to grow warm. It's slick between Zari's legs now; she feels it as her hips rut against Helen's body. 

Something moves, there's a rustle of fabric and the slide of it along Zari's arms. It takes her a little while to realize that her shoulders are cold, that her bra is sitting on her lap. She's just so _focused_ , so preoccupied with the skill of Helen's mouth and the way that she's using it on her breasts. The word _worshipping_ comes to mind, as Helen moves across Zari's sternum and curls her tongue around Zari's other breast. It's not far off. 

Zari feels the soft slickness of Helen's tongue and then the tug of her mouth suckling gently, and something about it pulls a moan from her, high-pitched and so, so needy. She thinks for a half-second about being embarrassed - but then Helen lets out an answering groan in reply, right against Zari's breast. "You," Helen murmurs around Zari's breast. 

"You," Zari whispers back. "I need -" 

One of Helen's hands - the one not clutching at Zari's waist, holding her close - disappears and reappears at the inseam of Zari's jeans. She presses upward, cupping Zari roughly through the fabric there and it's not that she can feel much of it but it's the gesture, the knowledge that Helen wants to touch her _there._ Zari groans again, tries to rut down but it doesn't give her any more, doesn't give her pressure where she _needs it._ "Yes," Zari whimpers. "That, please can we-" 

"Yes," Helen mumbles again. Her lips are higher up now, wrapped around Zari's collarbone, and it feels like she's leaving Zari a hickey that's going to last for _days._ "Yes, I want very much to -" 

" _Helen,_ " Zari whispers. 

That seems to do it, gives Helen enough pause that she breaks contact with Zari's skin and looks up at her. "Of course," Helen whispers back. 

Zari doesn't want to move, doesn't want to break a single bit of the contact she's got with Helen's body, but she needs this. She needs to be naked, and she needs to be on a _bed_ because if she's going to do this it's going to happen properly. 

It feels like an accomplishment to just stand up. 

Helen follows, standing next to her. Her hands ghost across Zari's ribs, her back, as Zari unbuttons her jeans and slips out of the rest of her clothes. 

By the time Zari's standing again, naked in front of Helen, they're already pressed together once more. Helen's got herself wrapped around Zari's back, dragging her fingertips across the skin of Zari's belly. She's not touching Zari where she _wants_ , where everything is throbbing and needy, but she's more than hinting at it with her touch slipping lower and her mouth latched on to the back of Zari's shoulder. "Beautiful," Zari hears and feels Helen whisper against her skin. "So beautiful." 

"Take me to bed," Zari whispers back.

She feels Helen's laugh against her skin, a warm, gentle hum. Then, once again, Helen is moving her. Helen's hands find Zari's hips and she walks Zari over to the bed, shoves her down with a movement that's gentle but insistent. Zari could resist, if she wanted to. 

She doesn't. 

She lets herself tumble onto the bed, arranges herself on her back just as Helen dives down after her. Helen's smile is wicked now, eager as she places her hands on Zari's belly and picks up where she left off. She leaves a trail of kisses, slow and wet across Zari's sternum and down her abdomen. It's not teasing but it _is_ , because it's not Helen's mouth between Zari's legs and right now that's all she can think about. 

As Helen's kisses reach Zari's hipbones, her pace slows even more. She presses her mouth to the space where Zari's abdomen meets her pelvis, finds the groove that draws a line from Zari's hipbones to her mound and kisses every inch of it, until it's all Zari can do not to squirm beneath her. She cups Zari's mound with her hand, presses up and Zari's sure she's wet enough that Helen can feel it even like this, even unfocused and tentative with the heel of her hand nowhere near close enough to Zari's clit. 

Helen presses her hand up and Zari moans, rocks her hips into the touch. It feels so _sweet_ , just enough sensation that the ache between her legs builds even more - nowhere near enough to ease it. 

Helen's hand disappears and is followed by her mouth, kissing softly across Zari's outer lips. "Are you sure -" Zari whispers. 

Helen replies with her nose buried between Zari's folds, an admonishing flick of her tongue across Zari's clit that makes her groan. 

"Of course," Helen replies. "On Themyscira I learned a great deal about how to please a woman. I've been told that I'm an extremely generous lover." 

The word _generous_ makes Zari's walls flex, and she's almost sure Helen can tell. "Oh. That's good, then." 

Helen licks in against Zari again and she cries out. It just feels _perfect_ , the natural conclusion to all of this, sweet and soft and beautiful. It feels even better when Helen's tongue starts to move. She's still unfocused, lapping slow and lazy across Zari's clit, but even that is so good that Zari can hardly handle it. She feels Helen laugh, a soft exhalation against her that makes her shiver, but she doesn't mind. She needs this too much to mind. 

Helen licks her way across and around Zari's clit with the flat of her tongue, adding just enough pressure that Zari begins to squirm. It's helping, building the tension inside her, but it's also not nearly enough to bring Zari over the edge. 

She's just about to say something - to beg, if she's being honest with herself - when Helen's tongue slides lower, then lower still and then Zari feels something new. Helen's tongue is lapping at her entrance, tender and thorough and the feel of it is just _incredible._ She cries out again. Her fingers flex, and she wants to hold something, wants to thread them into Helen's hair and tug but that's - she shouldn't. That's not polite. Helen's tongue slips inside her fully, curls up against her front wall and Zari's suddenly flooded with sensation, overwhelmed. Helen isn't just eating her out, she's _making out_ with Zari's cunt and oh, it's _wonderful._

Zari raises her hands, pressing them flat against the top of her bunk to keep them occupied. " _Fuck_ ," she stutters. "I-" 

Helen's tongue swirls again, rippling sensation through Zari's inner walls. Zari feels herself flex, everything inside her suddenly pushing down and then there's wetness running down the insides of her thighs. She can't see Helen but she can picture it, Zari's slick dripping down Helen's chin and somehow the idea of that works her up even more. 

Her clit is throbbing, pleading with Zari for contact and Zari's too far gone to say a word. All she can do is lay there, think the word _please_ and hope that somehow, Helen will know what she needs. 

Helen's tongue lingers inside her a little longer, tasting every last drop of Zari before she moves up and wraps it around Zari's clit and oh _oh_ , that's what she's been needing. She doesn't remember making noise but she hears it, her own moans loud in her ears as Helen's tongue flicks across her clit, the perfect amount of sensation and pressure and Zari can feel her climax start to build. Her inner walls tense, and she's suddenly so aware of them, so aware of everything that Helen's tongue is touching, of Helen's chin pressed against her entrance. It's good and then it's great and then Zari is seeing stars, coming against Helen's face. Everything about this is loud and wet and messy and Zari doesn't care - feels like she can't care about anything but how good this feels. 

Helen licks every last bit of Zari's orgasm out of her, the pace of her tongue slowing to match Zari's sighs and the flutter of her cunt against Helen's face. The rush of endorphins feels calming, necessary, and Zari lets herself bask in them for a few moments before she opens her eyes. 

Helen lingers between Zari's legs, rests her head on Zari's thigh until she's come back to herself enough to look down at Helen there. Her mouth is shining, slick with Zari as she beams. It's just as pretty as Zari had imagined. 

"You taste so good," Helen says. "I hope that was pleasing in the manner to which you're accustomed." 

"Very," Zari huffs. She's still a little breathless, her mind foggy, and must be the reason that Helen's smile is curling around her heart, charming her. "Extremely pleasing." 

"Would you like another?" Helen asks. She's licking her lips, bright-eyed. 

Zari doesn't know how to answer that. She's still boneless, too spent to consider much more than staring at the ceiling, but at the word _another_ something inside her twitches, like perhaps her body wouldn't mind another round. "Come here," she says. 

Helen obliges. As she stands up, Zari realizes that she's still wearing her outfit from the battle, and that feels - that's not what she wants. She wants to feel the softness of Helen, to see her out of those clothes. "Wait," Zari murmurs as Helen starts to move towards her again. "Take those off." 

Helen looks down at herself, cheeks going pink as she realizes her state of dress. "Of course." 

Zari rolls to her side, watches as Helen works at laces and buttons and lets her armor and boots fall away. Naked, Helen is radiant. Zari can see the strength in her now, the way her muscles flex and jump under her skin with every movement. Her breasts are beautiful, the curve of them making Zari's mouth water. As much as Zari hates everything about the Trojan War, for a moment, she understands it. The sight of Helen is something else entirely. "May I join you?" Helen asks, her voice lilting up with amusement.

Zari shifts, makes space for Helen to join her. Her body presses along the length of Helen's side, soft meeting soft, and she doesn't miss the way that Helen's breath catches at the feel of her. "I think," Zari says. "It's my turn to thank you." 

Helen's laugh is soft and breathless with arousal. "Oh, yes." Helen whispers. "I think I'd like that very much."


End file.
